


Quiet, Quiet.

by Josaporta



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 20:14:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3823306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josaporta/pseuds/Josaporta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's three am and I'm bored but too frazzled mentally to write real fic like I really want to. This is actually so old and written for Tyler and another ship but I wanted to post while I work on other things because hashtag yolo</p>
<p>Do you ever remember you've got another ~10k of fic written but you can't post it because you're not that far in the fic yet<br/>Don't start at random snapshots in a fic, friends.</p></blockquote>





	Quiet, Quiet.

He's bogged down and heavy in the worst of ways. His head too loud and his mouth too quiet, heart heavy and thudding lazily in his chest. Sometimes he wonders if it wouldn’t be better if it just stopped. But no, he doesn’t really think that. Not overtly. Not in any way that will put himself in danger. But sometimes, when his thoughts are dark and his mind is cloudy from not sleeping he thinks about what it would be like to not exist.

Not to die. Not quite. Just to not exist for a while. Fade into nothingness and affect no one and impact nothing.

He can’t stand those days.

Days like this are a little bit better. Days where he can talk to everyone and be a little more social. He can talk to Josh and Jenna and Mark and feel a little more at home in his own skin. He can settle into his mind and find some form of comfort in it. And when he can’t, he writes it all away as lyric.

So of course he’s going to accept her invitation. He would love to do nothing more than lie down and sleep, but he can’t. She helps to quiet his head, though, and it’s incredible in the same way that it’s terrifying.

So he goes over. She takes one look at him and he knows she sees the dark circles under his eyes. He hasn’t slept or eaten more than scraps and leftovers in a couple days. He’s a dark pit of rumpled clothes and fluffy hair. His face isn’t shaven and his fingers twitch when she reaches out and laces her own through them. He smiles, small and tired, and she leads him inside.

He can’t sleep in his clothes as he is, so he toes out of his shoes. He sheds his jacket. He takes his pants off once he’s in her room, kicking them to a corner and completely, painfully aware that this is the most exposed he’s been in front of her.

But he can’t sleep in jeans.

He drops onto her bed, face down, once she’s moved the covers away. He breathes in the scent of her pillows and sags, relaxing into the bed that isn’t his but feels like home. He smiles to himself when he feels it dip beside him, and he lifts his arm to drape over her waist.

It’s as close and as intimate as they’ve been, and he likes it. She rubs her hand up and down his back, and he hums out a little noise. He’s content and relaxed for the first time in days, and sleep hits him like a sack of bricks. He’s heavy and asleep within minutes, lax under her hands and curled tight to her side.

He doesn’t dream of shadows or of darkness. Instead he dreams of a moon that shines out color in an inky black sky, dotted with stars and constellations.

**Author's Note:**

> It's three am and I'm bored but too frazzled mentally to write real fic like I really want to. This is actually so old and written for Tyler and another ship but I wanted to post while I work on other things because hashtag yolo
> 
> Do you ever remember you've got another ~10k of fic written but you can't post it because you're not that far in the fic yet  
> Don't start at random snapshots in a fic, friends.


End file.
